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Character Biography Edit

Name: Sergey [thinking of Surname]
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Grade: Sophomore [10]
Extra Curricular Activity: Riflery, archery, martial arts...and a bit on the illegal side. *coughthieveryandstealthcough*
School: Barry Coleson High

Appearance: On first look, he doesn't seem to be that [see above] kind of guy. First looks can be wrong, though. Sergey is incredibly thin, very fit, very lean. Very fast runner. He just *looks* like the Track Star, but he's not. For reasons explained later. He's got a very preppy, smart look about him. His hair is cut short, the blond strands easily falling into place on his head. It grows rather slowly, but...that's no problem. His eyes are a different matter. They almost look nice. But, after looking at them, or in to them, for a bit...you'll see what Sergey is like. Or rather, the tip of the iceberg that is Sergey. His frightfully icy-blue eyes have caused quite a few girls to fall for him, at just a first look. Obviously, they were very shallow. For, if one looks at his eyes for long, one will notice the coldness in them. At first, it looks just like his...icy composure. But, he is a very...very sick individual. Very cold. He wears a navy-blue turtle neck, clinging to his thin frame. He wears tight pants, but not...TIGHT pants. They almost look like track pants, even, but not like that. They're dark green, with a white stripe down the outer leg.

Biography: Sergey was raised in a devout Christian family. He'd gotten to 9 without incident. His grades were extraordinary; he almost considered an A- failing. No exxageration. His father wasn't incredibly good looking, but enough for a second glance. His mother was of near super-model beauty, and had the kind of heart that few had. He even still had time for a social life, though not as active as most. He had a few good friends, but no more. Then, on his 9th Birthday, the shit hit the fan. Both his parents had been walking; the only reason he was home was, quite simply, that he had been too tired. As his parents had been returning from their long walk, he watched them approach. He'd never before heard what a Magnum sounded like. Nor had he seen the effects. The loud roar of the handgun, followed by his father falling to the pavement. His knee was almost literally gone, and he was 'down for the count.' Bleeding out would be a problem. With no warning, an armed man wearing black had appeared from behind a tree. The heavy .44 was still smoking. He proceeded to walk up to Sergey's mother, waving the gun around, saying...something. The man grabbed Sergey's mother shortly after, dragging her into an alley right next to the house. It was a wonder no police had come; the .44 was loud. It was a full fifteen minutes before anything more happened. All the while, he got to watch his Father. Writhing in pain, looking at his almost-severed leg, and throwing up all over the pavement and himself. His father knew he'd be dead soon. Sergey watched in disbelief. 'Oh lord...please save my...my parents...please, don't let any---' His little prayer was immediatly cut off. There was another huge bang, and a flash of light illuminated the alley way. The man came out, once more. He zipped his pants [it took years for Sergey to find out what had happened; when he did, it didn't help his mindstate], and walked to Sergey's dad. His eyes looked like golfballs in his pale face. The man kicked Sergey's dad in the face, shattering bone after bone with heavy steel-toed boots, then just...walked away. The gun bulged in the man's belt, under his coat, but he acted as if nothing had happened, and he'd left quick enough for no cops to find him. It took the better part of an hour for police to show up, and when they did, Sergey's dad had long since stopped bleeding. And moving. Sergey, however, had stopped crying. His tears wouldn't come. From that day, he made a remarkably mature, wise revalation: The huge majority of human beings are not fit to live. His studies of Hitler, among others, only reinforced this belief. He renounced his faith in Religion the same night, just a bit sooner. God had ignored his prayers. God had allowed his parents to die such an undignified death. This event forced him to come to a new conclusion: God either didn't exist, or didn't care. What was not wise was his decision on how to deal with humanity. He devoted himself to training himself in self-defense. That slowly evolved to a devotion to methods of dealing death. Not only that, but he taught himself, then was taught by others, how to be stealthy. How to escape detection; how to survive, if he did what he wanted to do. If anything, after this began, his grades rose even more. It was amazing. But, out of school, he was devoted to one purpose. At merely 15, he killed the lowest dregs of human society in New York. He'd wander the alleyways of NY, and his prime targets were thugs. So, he was a bit of a vigilante. He'd never kill children, and the cut-off age for kids was 15 to him, so...that worked fine. And, afterwards, he'd catch the police reports. He'd laugh at the detail of the reports, and how confused the police were. He was an expert at cleaning off the crime scene [well, that's not what he called it]. He even managed to implicate a few normal people in some of the more...exotic killings. In other words, he appears perfectly normal. But he's killed more than almost anyone. Excluding people who drop bombs and such. One on one.

Other: Yeah, Sergey's one sick pup. But, he never kills animals. Only human beings. What'll he do in SOTF? If you ask that, get checked out.

Number: 113. Cause he finds it trivial...and doesn't care.

Facts about Sergey Edit

Sergey was, basically, Asano's first attempt at creating a villain character. He was created via sugar rush, according to his handler. While he wasn't a bad character, Kaishi just found it a little too unbelievable that he killed so many people without repercussion, and once Asano decided the same, he requested that the character application be nullified.

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